


Privacy

by Latinuser



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Friendship, Friendship issues, Gen, Trust Issues, are you k iddin g me, broskis, legit the first fanfiction on here with Harry Whitehorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latinuser/pseuds/Latinuser
Summary: Harry Whitehorse was always so easy to read. Karol knew every expression on his face like the back of his hand, but for some reason, despite all of that, Harry never liked to talk about himself. At least, not in the same manner that Karol did.





	Privacy

**Author's Note:**

> So here we go. Something I wrote in one evening because I like Karol Capel and Harry Whitehorse and think the fact nobody has written Harry is a travesty. I might write some small one-ups of Harry later, but for now!!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy.

He was translucent as glass.

 _Until he isn’t_.

Harry Whitehorse was strange, even to Karol’s own standards. Emotions so subtle it was like someone stamped a message across his face for anyone to read. When he gets angry, his brows furrow and there’s a crease above his nose, lips pressing firmly together, the upper lip curling and when he’s happy, his face is relaxed, his mouth is open in a grin, lips pulled back in a wide smile that shows slightly crooked teeth. Every emotion had an expression, so clear and distinct, it was hysterical how people never talked about it.

For right then, however, Karol’s staring Harry down. Mapping out every piece of Harry he possibly can while he sits at Harry’s own table. He remembers Harry the first time they’d met. The look of tiredness, the weary acceptance as Karol had been uncertain of if he should associate with the other Whitehorse. It had only been a handful of years later and Karol now had another question … watching Harry as he helplessly squinted at a book that was resting on the table, him standing above it, ladle in hand.

“How do you keep yer life so private?”

The slight drawl is something Karol is working out. He has to, for Nan. Nan hated that accent, said it  _butchered_  the language or something. But most people in Dhangrest had at least a tinge of the accent.

The blond’s gaze uplifts from the book, blue eyes looking to Karol in something in confusion. Karol can tell he’s confused, his brows are slightly pulled in while his eyes widened, and there’s almost a touch of a pout, top lip hanging over his bottom lip. 

It takes Harry a second, before he finally speaks. “What do ya mean?”

“All’a this.” Karol waves a hand around the room. “Yer so ...”  _easy to read_ , “... _open_  about everything, but you rarely show any of it. Heck... I’ve never heard you talk about getting a girlfriend once.”

The looks Karol recieved were borderline comical. Flipping from confusion to bewilderment to uncertainty and more. It was like it’s own broadway show. “I dunno what’cher talkin’ about, Karol. I’m sure I’ve talked about girls at least once.”

That wasn’t what Karol had meant by that, but sure. He supposed Harry could go that direction if he wanted. “Nah. I mean. Once.  _Maybe_  when we were ... drunk.” He was going to say  _shit-faced_. Harry didn’t cuss though. “But like. I talk to  _you_  all th’ time about Nan and Brave Vesperia and --”

“I talk to you about Altosk.”

It was such a quick cut in Karol was surprised.

“I talk about guild stuff, and tell you my opinions on Nan and all of that, don’t I?”

Giving it a moment of thought, Karol conceded,  _okay yes_. Harry did indeed talk about all of that stuff, but ... “But what about  _your_  interests? The people  _you_  like?” There’s a stiffening of Harry’s shoulders, a tensing in his back. Karol had struck something there. “C’mon! You can talk to me. We’re friends.”

Harry’s hands are running through his hair.

 _It’s longer now_ , Karol thinks as he’s watching bangs get pushed away. Harry was nervous. That’s what that tick always meant. Just waiting for it, and when he finally licked at his lips and tried to speak, Karol was the one to cut Harry off this time. “I share all of my personal life with you. You can talk to me a  _little_  bit about this stuff.”

“I know...”

It begins, nervous, and Harry is looking anywhere but at Karol. Karol knew it too, because Harry was staring directly at his ladle.  _Harry was lying_. About ... being able to talk?

“Do you?”

The question pierced the air and it was like a thunderclap. Harry visibly cringed away from Karol and was quick to laugh, hand rubbing across a scar that’s been on his face for as long as Karol could remember.

“Well sure I know!” His nails looked like they were starting to dig into the flesh above his nose. “Like it’s stupid t’not know, right? Yer my friend. Friends talk about stuff like that. I just don’t got interestin’ things to say ...” He’s jabbering now, much to Karol’s distaste. Pulling excuses out of his ass, but talking quickly enough the sheer amount was to get Karol to stop pressing.

Harry was a bad liar.

And Karol was a stubborn kid.

“Harry.”

“...and like it ain’t nothin’ against anything I’m just super borin’-”

“ _Harry_.”

“-so there ain’t shit t’say and I’m pretty fucked up and like who would I talk about that I liked? Nobody really would like me  _back_  ‘n that way, ya hear what those chicks say ‘bout me?”

“ ** _Harry_**.”

Third time is the charm ... Harry’s voice chokes back in his throat as he’s staring to the side of the room. Anywhere but at Karol. Anywhere but at his face. And Karol knows it. He knows because he can see Harry’s face growing red, see his back halfway turned in vain hopes that this would cause enough distance between the two of them. It never worked for anyone else Harry had tried it on. What hurt Karol the most was ... Harry thought it would work on  _him_.

“Look ... it ain’t about you.”

 _That’s not what you’re saying_. Karol could feel an irritation bubbling into his chest.  _Your backs turned. You’re talking with your hands but you refuse to look at me_.

“It’s about a lotta things. I ain’t ... there’s a lotta people ...” He’s fumbling for words to say and Karol wishes his chest didn’t feel so tight and hot. “Private life is ... th’ one reprieve I get away from it all.”

Karol can’t stop himself. “Away from what?”

The slow turn as blue eyes finally meet brown once more makes Karol suck in a sharp breath. He’s still angry, he’s still mad, but that expression isn’t something he’s seen on Harry before.

Harry was  _afraid_. “Work.” He begins, “...People. Mistakes.  _Myself_.”

The thought of Harry sitting home alone, just staring at the ceiling to unwind was an unnatural one for Karol. Cooking and sitting alone at this giant table to eat by himself in silence. Even the idea of him shouting into a mirror or a pillow just yanked up bad feelings in the pit of his stomach. It seemed  _wrong_. Harry was a big personality with people and grins and shouting ...

So it felt wrong. That look of fear so plainly visible. “You don’t gotta keep it all quiet though.” Karol’s not sure why he’s speaking, but he slowly pushes himself up from Harry’s table. He’s short in comparison to Harry, and if this had been a good day, Karol knew Harry would have teased him for it. “I could ... listen. Like you do.”

Harry had been quick to shake his head. “Nah, nah. I don’t need that.”

That settled the more rational thought as the tables chair scraped against the wood floor and Harry had finally returned to face him fully, one hand lifted, as if to stop Karol. Karol wasn’t going to be stopped. “Then what _do_ you need?” Harry seemed about to answer before he was cut off, “I don’t wanna be the person who can’t do anything for his friends, and you’re _making_ me be that person, Harry.”

Karol sees it cross Harry’s face. Guilt, insecurity, displeasure … Harry didn’t like being told what to do either, Karol knows it. “C’mon! Just talk t’me. I ain’t yankin’ a fuckin’ sword outta yer side or anything!”

A lopsided grin crosses Harry’s lips before he finally responds … “You cussed.”

Karol’s face fell into a blank realization.

“Don’t distract me that isn’t the-“

“-and yer slurrin’ got a ton worse.”

“Harry!”

“C’mon half-pint, never knew ya had it in you.”

Karol launched himself at Harry. Harry and his stupid ladle and his stupid expressions and his stupid _everything_. His hands were curled into fists as Harry laughed. Karol had rocked Harry back, _Harry was always so easy to knock down_ , and was now on top of him, smacking at Harry’s stomach. Harry, for his worth, shifted around to try to wriggle free, blocking against the firm thwaps which pressed against him.

Karol wouldn’t _break_ anything.

They both knew that.

Despite this, once Karol realized his plan of attack Harry in this manner was not working, his hands began _searching_. The suddenly uncharacteristically high pitched _squeak_ that escaped from Harry was more than enough to satisfy Karol. Hands wandered with light, feather-like strokes around Harry’s ribs, his sides, _everywhere_ possible Karol could get to.

“S-stop, Karol-“

Harry was laughing, snickering, _snorting_ , trying to curl up and earnestly fighting to get Karol off of him with the ladle smacking Karol’s arms.

“Then answer me!”

“O-okay, Okay! I’ll ans-s-wer” his voice kept hitching with laughter, “just stop!”

Karol debated for only a second, “Promise me!”

“Wh-hat?” Harry _wheezed_ , his breath getting pulled tightly by another unprompted snort.

“Promise me you’ll talk! Pinky Promise.”

Harry’s head _bobbed_ quickly, sharp motions attempting to just alleviate some of the pain he experienced through the laughter which was torn from his throat. Karol, satisfied with this … finally stopped, pulling back, just enough, that he could shove his pinky in Harry’s face.

The youngers hand was still pressed against Harry’s ribcage and the feint feeling was more than enough threat to get Harry to latch their pinkies together quickly.

“Why’d I ever tell ya about that…” Harry was grumbling. Karol, however, could only _beam_.

He hated being called short. Harry _knew_ he had elected war the moment the words ‘half pint’ had left him, so Karol didn’t hold back. Now, however. They sat in silence. Harry staring at the floor, Karol waiting expectantly stradeled over his stomach.

“D’ya mind …” Harry gestured, Karol thought about it, before nodding. He did mind. Harry sighed. His fingers going to run through his hair again.

Karol trusted Harry. The older boy hadn’t broken a promise yet, but Karol also knew Harry one to stretch certain things so that something seemed one way when it was another. So he’d stay here, thank you. Stay here and wait for Harry to talk. Like he’d promised.

Like he’d _pinky_ promised.

There’s a noise of displeasure from the back of Harry’s throat, “It ain’t really … a big deal.”

The response was instant, “Then it shouldn’t be a big deal t’talk about.”

They sat in silence again.

“I don’t like talkin’ ‘cuz … I like feelin’ as if there’s some things nobody else knows about me.” Karol waited patiently as Harry fidgeted, trying to think of how to say what he wanted. That look on his face was oddly similar to the first time they’d met. “I’m pretty easy t’read. I ain’t a bluffer like Raven, and my beliefs are pretty straight forward. So there isn’t a lot I get t’ … ya’know. Be _interestin’_ with. So with things like _girls_ , I respect their privacy. I don’t talk ‘bout ‘em to other people. Not cuz I don’t _care_ , but ‘cuz … it’s _theirs_. Like I wouldn’t talk ‘bout yer problems with Nan t’anybody but you.”

Karol was about to argue _he didn’t have any problems with Nan_ , when Harry continued.

“It’s _private_. But everythin’ I do is so _open_. Especially since ‘m in this _big_ important seat. Can ya blame me … fer wantin’ some things to remain that way?”

The silence following that held a stiffness in the air. That question. But, Karol knew his answer almost immediately, despite taking a few seconds to say it. “Well … no … but yes.” Harry looked at him funny. “Look, we’re friends, right?” Harry nodded and Karol nodded along with him, “Then you shouldn’t have to worry about talkin’ to me about all this,” there’s a vague hand gesturing, “because I’m your friend. I’m not going to randomly bring it up with people.”

There’s a vague, almost blank look. Harry’s _what the hell_ face. The one he makes in realization, and in, a _why didn’t I get that sooner_ look. But it morphs to uncertainty quite quickly. “I like privacy.”

“I got that.”

“No, like. Karol. _I really like privacy_.” Karol waved a hand, as-if for Harry to get on with it. Harry’s mouth pressed firmly together into an irritated stare that Karol could predict from a mile away. “It ain’t just one of those whimsy things. I … handle a _lot_ of sensitive materials at my desk. I have problems and issues, as I said earlier, I’m … kin’a … messed up.”

Something vague ticks in the back of Karol’s head. Earlier … Harry had been speaking so fast, Karol hadn’t quite caught what he said. But he vaguely remembered _something_ like that. But he’s not sure why … it doesn’t sound right.

“So I like things pretty close t’my chest. The less people who know … the less likely someone else hears and it becomes a big deal.”

Karol gets that, _he does_ , but, “You don’t trust me.” That’s what he hears.

“What?” The slack jawed response is a little funny coming from Harry.

“You don’t trust me.”

While repeating it, he’s realizing Harry is slowly pushing himself further and further up. Going from his elbows, Harry is now using both of his hands, ladle pressed flat (or as flat as it could) against the floor, and blue eyes were now looking at Karol in aghast shock.

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yer implying it.” Karol returned. His chest felt funny.

Harry shook his head, “But that isn’t what I meant- Karol, it’s not that I don’t trust _you_ , I don’t trust _them_!” There’s a vague gesture, awkwardly balancing on one arm, Harry waves a hand about wildly. “Everyone else! Even Raven’ll get a bit too chatty for my likin’. It isn’t _you_. Everyone else. All the people in Dhangrest, all th’ guilds, even th’ knights…”

Karol sat somewhat numbly, registering what Harry was saying. “But if it’s just them, why don’t you tell _me_.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn’t answered the question … He guessed. But he thought he had. “Cuz. I dunno.” Blue eyes were lowered, but in a different way. It wasn’t Harry avoiding him now, it was just … not knowing what to say. Being _lost_ , and not knowing.

It really didn’t suit Harry.

“Well, you should.” Karol decided _he would_ know, then. “Because we’re friends. So.” A sly _grin_ wormed its way up the brunette’s lips as he wiggled his fingers threateningly at Harry. “Tell me ‘bout these apparent _ladies_ you’ve been with-“

“Karol no!”

His words were drowned in laughter as Karol just smiled along semi-maliciously while awaiting the answers Harry  _would_  give. “Karol _yes_.”


End file.
